Time
by Maureen Painted Green
Summary: The voice in her head keeps nagging - it's time, Kate. T for language.


_It's time. _The thought first strikes on a Thursday morning; she's walking out the door, on her way in to the precinct, juggling her case notes and keys. She dismisses it, stowing the files in the backseat of the Crown Vic and sliding into her own. But once it's occurred, it doesn't want to go away – it ambushes her again, that treacherous little snippet of word and subtext, as she combs the last remnants of conditioner out of her hair that evening in the shower.

Soon after, it begins to lay siege to the inner sanctum of her brain, bombarding her walls of compartmentalization with pellets of hope and trepidation. It begins to erode the demarcation she's carefully maintained between _work thoughts_ and _alone with a glass of red wine in the bathtub thoughts._ Tricky little bastard, it's even managed to finagle its way into the department of _it's-never-ever-gonna-happen-stop-thinking-those-things-immediately-Katherine-Beckett thoughts. That category,_ it smugly informs her, _consists almost entirely of fantasies about what she would do to a certain Richard Castle, should the opportunity (and the chutzpah) suddenly arise._ _Shut up, _she stubbornly responds to the teasing little voice in her head.

_It's time, _the voice replies.

It is, and she knows it. She's known it for weeks, since that evening when she's finally come clean, indirectly, of course, about what she remembered from her shooting. He'd already known; she still wasn't sure exactly how, but she knew it must have been related to his recent behavior – the temper tantrums, the Ferrari, the blonde, and that truly unfortunate incident with Slaughter. _Never-gonna-happen Land,_ that little voice snickered. _Clever. I wonder if he knows that's a one-way ticket. Non-refundable. _Kate shook her head – at least the voice had a sense of humor. Even if it did mean she was going crazy. _Damnit, Castle, _she could feel the eye roll coming on, _now you've got me fighting with the voices in my head._

"You do realize, my dear detective, that you are horribly stuck in this rut." Speak of the devil. His eyes twinkled behind the roguish smile he fixed her with, setting her cup of coffee down in front of the elephant parade on her desk. "Grande skim latte, two pumps of sugar-free vanilla – it's been the same for four years." She met his gaze over the top of her cup; the smile in her eyes was all coquettish laughter, with a hint of that wicked sparkle. _God, he loved her._

"I'm just happy with what I have, Castle." This time, she rewarded him with a real smile. This sudden burst of sentimentality didn't just have to do with her coffee, then; Castle grinned back.

"Well if you're ever looking for something to spice it up - maybe a little nutmeg. Wouldn't want the coffee shop to give up on the idea of anything ever changing."

"Leave my coffee alone, Castle." He tried to hide the hurt in his reaction. _Which meant it was genuine. Shit, how had she already butchered this conversation?_ "Leave my coffee alone, but if you're free, can I take you out for dinner tonight? You know, to get us out of our burger rut?"

"There's nothing wrong with my burgers…" She heard him mutter under his breath, but the smile in his eyes told her she was forgiven.

Maybe she would tell him tonight, over the promising combination of candlelight, red wine, and steaming plates of Italian food at her favorite little hole-in-the-wall. Maybe she would blurt it out suddenly, in the middle of a case, as they traced the trail of facts, traversing the whole of Manhattan as the searched the island for another little piece of the truth. Maybe this would all end in a screaming match, him blindly ignoring the evidence right in front of him until she had to cover his mouth and yell loud enough for the whole precinct to hear her, yell until he believed her, but he had to know. If he didn't already suspect, then she had to tell him, because it was so damn obvious that even and Ryan and Esposito had seen it – she loved him. Damnit, she was so in love with him – she had to tell him.

_It's time, Kate._ The comforting voice of her mother reassured her. _It's time._


End file.
